


hope is the thing with feathers

by dandywarhol



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Friendship, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, mentions of Yuri childhood, mentions of viktuuri, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8922532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandywarhol/pseuds/dandywarhol
Summary: It's New Year's Eve and Yuri can't help but hope.





	

**_10_ **

Yuri didn’t rely on hope. It was a cruel emotion and he had no time for it. Things in life came from your own hard work and no one else’s. His ice skating career proved that, if nothing else.

Yet, something still resided in him that night. A small burning feeling in the pit of his stomach, a passion that made his chest flutter and his bones aches. As he sat, staring out the frosted window, drowning in the celebratory cheers around him, he felt it. _Hope._

**_9_ **

God, it was stupid. He felt so vulnerable, and was reminded of all the times he would wait into the early hours for his parents’ return from some bar in some nearby neighbourhood. Grandpa would give only a sad smile and a small kiss to his forehead before leaving him to it, for he had not the heart to throw away such a thing as a child’s hope.

It was only when Yuri grew older that he stopped waiting. It was then he learnt there was more to the A.M than the static of night-time commercials and the crackle of a burning fireplace.

And when he stopped waiting, he stopped being disappointed.

**_8_ **

So, what was he doing? Why was he bothered? Viktor and Yuuri had forced him to come celebrate downstairs with the rest of them, yes, but it’s not as if he couldn’t slip away. He wanted to, that was for sure: without Otabek, their tipsy babble was unbearable.

_Otabek._

The feeling flares up in Yuri’s body again.

**_7_ **

In the darkness of a 4AM Skype call – something not all too irregular for the pair – with Otabek’s tired face staring dimly back at him, Yuri had insisted he visit in time for the New Year. And honestly, how could Otabek resist? The flights were booked that night and Yuri had made sure Beka would be here in plenty time.

But where was he?

**_6_ **

With hope, came disappointment. By aged ten, it was a lesson Yuri did not forget so easily. In fact, as Yuri observed a small boy cry on the ice, hand clasped over a small graze on his knee from where he had stumbled and fell, Yuri started to wonder why we, as humans, choose to feel anything at all.

It was moments like this that fuelled his hatred for hope – for most things. It’s why he came to despise so much of the world around him, a world that fed off emotion. He wanted nothing to do with it.

**_5_ **

Then, Otabek came. He sought to prove the world wasn’t something to cower from, and he did so – in the subtle and graceful way he did most things. Friendship forced itself upon Yuri and, for the first time in a long time, he found himself intoxicated. Overwhelmed with a newfound skip in his heart, overpowered with the ways in which Otabek took Yuri’s life into his own, overburdened with unadulterated and absolute joy.

Not that he let it be known.

No, that’d be much too embarrassing.

**_4_ **

It showed only in the way his cheeks would singe when Otabek’s fingertips brushed over his, or how his eyes would widen when their knees bumped.

Three years for Yuri to realise.

_Fuck. This is more than friends._

**_3_ **

The countdown was unbearable. They were all positioning themselves now, hands round necks and on waists and in other places Yuri’s mind didn’t dare wander.

It made him sick.

Not in the way a teenage Yuri would be, gagging at the sight of affection and love. This was different. Now, Yuri felt a different kind of sick: a sinking feeling that washed over his mind just as much as his chest, made him think of all the good things in life at once.

He thought of Otabek.

_**2** _

“Yuri!”

A voice, different to the rest.

More familiar.

It felt like home.

Yuri tears his eyes from the window. That feeling returns. It crashes over him in waves, engulfs him, eats away at him. As he turns his head towards the door, he feels it building. Hope.

**_1_ **

That night, Yuri learns not to be afraid of hope.

Otabek stands in the doorway, as if a statue made of marble and gold and all other grand things. At first, Yuri can do nothing but stare. He was here: not a mirage or a figment of his own fickle desire. Not anymore. Otabek was here.

With that, Yuri was up, merciless as he tore across the room, eyes set on him alone.

**_Happy New Year!_ **

Immediately, Yuri was submerged in the tinnitus of silence, white noise coursing through his veins and pounding his brain. They stood opposite each other now. Yuri’s mind was at a blank.

It was Otabek’s turn to move.

Gloved hands gripped the nape of his neck, twisting flaxen strands of hair tight, bringing him closer and closer. Yuri felt as though he was drowning, if such a thing could feel so excruciatingly beautiful. He hoped Otabek felt the same.

Their lips touched. Yuri felt himself come undone. Three years of repressed longing surged between them and it showed. All they wanted was to be closer, and closer again, to feel the electricity as it danced across their bodies, feeding its way into their blood as they gripped the other tighter.

They separated. A moment passed before Yuri realised his entire body was taut, muscles aching with disbelief and a thousand other emotions he’d never even experienced before. Another moment passed before he realised Otabek was the same.

He risked a tentative glance at the other. What stared back at him was not embarrassment or regret, but simple warmth.

“Sorry I was late,” Otabek murmurs, though he knows there’s nothing to apologise for. Not really; not now.

“Shut up,” Yuri replies, a light blush dusting his features. He’d blame it on the cold in the morning, using the excuse it was just the winter wind nipping at his cheeks, and Otabek, of course, would nod his head and agree, as he always did. But they both knew otherwise, “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Otabek did just that.

**Author's Note:**

> i've been rewatching The OC and after the nye episode i just had to write this.  
> ALSO they're aged up in this fic (reference to three years of friendship n what not) so do not fear. 
> 
> ALSO ALSO i wrote this at like 2am last night so sorry for any mistakes
> 
> thank u for ur time


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